


In Spades

by pearlyquill (TheQuiescentQuill)



Category: Cats - Andrew Lloyd Webber, Cats - Andrew Lloyd Webber RPF, Lackadaisy, Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats - T. S. Eliot
Genre: Crossover, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-23
Updated: 2016-07-19
Packaged: 2018-07-16 20:44:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7284085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheQuiescentQuill/pseuds/pearlyquill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She stood there, young and barely an adult in the centre of the stage, her voice was beautiful. Enchanting even and it made him shiver as he moved to fix his shirt collar, suddenly uncomfortably tight around his neck. He wondered if the butterflies in his stomach were the product of her voice or the way her tail swayed ever so gently. To say she was elegant would be an understatement. The pianist was chewing thoughtfully on a toothpick, he looked bored and Pouncival can't imagine how. He would kill to be so close to such a gem at any given moment.<br/>"Pretty thing, isn't she?" Drawled a tom settled some ways down the bar, looking up Pouncival's eye's met Tuggers and reality crashed back in. Pouncival is just the maintenance guy, he fixes toilets and Jemima, well she was an angel.<br/>"Uh... Yeah."</p><p>-----------------------</p><p>[ This fic takes place in the realm of anthropomorphic cats mainly because it's based on Lackadaisy which if you have not read I highly recommend! ]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Janitor's Opinion

**Author's Note:**

> So uh... I'm CATS trash and I'm Lackadaisy trash so I... Fused the two and sort of came out with a more modern, CATS the Musical version of Lackadaisy cats and now it's probably going to be multi-chapter so welcome to my lifes greatest work.

The toilet was jammed for the second week in a row, the same one in the men's bathroom and to be honest he didn't want to know why it kept jamming but he'd much rather it stayed unjammed. Always the same one too, second from the end. Which is why Pouncival was struggling with a plunger and praying to the Eternal Cat that he didn't get splashed with toilet water. This was an especially passionate prayer because in order to make it back to his "office" he had to travel back through the ballroom. Which was really the centre of glamour within the Jellicle lair, that was where the girls milled with Toms who were far older and richer than they’d ever hope to be. It made Pouncival uncomfortable, even after working here for roughly six months.  

         This was not what he had envisioned joining the "Jellicles" was going to be like. He'd imagined something... More glamorous. More heists and less menial labour. More excitement and danger and women. And yet here he was, his tail slightly puffed up as he lifted it out of the way of the damp floor. He gave a deep sigh, as he stood up and straightened his back as best could. Rubbing his hips slightly as some vague satisfaction rolled him, he’d done the job they’d asked him to do and really that was what he was being paid for after all. And paid well, well as well as a greasemonkey can be expected to pay. Leaning over he flushed the toilet, more pleased to have been done a job than he had all week.

        Dropping his various tools back into the tool box and discreetly placing the plunger in the small store cupboard, Pouncival packed up, washed his hands and tried to fix himself up in the mirror. He supposed he was an attractive enough, white with brown markings and a streak that crossed from one side of his face to the other in a sort of scar shape. His mother suggested it made him look unique, he felt it made him look of place. He breathed a slow sigh and moved to step out of the bathroom, tugging his hat down a little as he went to make a bee line from the bathroom to the hallway on the other side of the ballroom.  
  
       He heard her voice before he seen her and found himself freezing in place, his grip tightened on his tool box and Pouncival lifted his eyes from beneath the brim of his hat to catch a glimpse of her. She stood there, young and barely an adult in the centre of the stage, her voice was beautiful. Enchanting even and it made him shiver as he moved to fix his shirt collar, suddenly uncomfortably tight around his neck. He wondered if the butterflies in his stomach were the product of her voice or the way her tail swayed ever so gently. To say she was elegant would be an understatement. The pianist was chewing thoughtfully on a toothpick, he looked bored and Pouncival couldn't imagine how. He would kill to be so close to such a gem at any given moment.

       "Pretty thing, isn't she?" Drawled a tom settled some ways down the bar, looking up Pouncival's eye's met Tuggers and reality crashed back in. Pouncival was just the maintenance guy, he fixed toilets and Jemima, well she was an angel.

       "Uh... Yeah." He coughed uncomfortably. Tugger was notorious, well known and well liked among Toms and Queens within the Jellicles. Though favoured by few, he knew that Tugger often caused trouble and generally stirred up a ruckus. He was disrespectful, crude and flirtatious. Jemima loved him. Jealousy rattled around Pouncival’s innards, like a stone dropping to the bottom of a lake. The grin, smug and knowing, grew on Tugger’s face and Pouncival found himself dropping his head low again and moving to step past him, excusing himself quietly.

       Munkustrap would be irritated if he didn’t report back to him and well, he couldn’t stand to hang around the ballroom much longer. Jemima’s voice became muffled and quieter as he stepped into the cool hallway and moved to drop his tool kit into the janitor’s closet. Closing the door and locking it, he heard the soft sound of conversation. A nasally voice that wasn’t unpleasant rattled down the hallway and lifting his head he found himself face-to-face with Mungojerrie and Rumpleteaser. Twins, ginger, loud and brash. All words that he associated with the two notorious trouble makers. Jerrie had apparently been injured in his last heist, as he was holding a pack of something to his face. Munkustrap would not be amused.

       It was at this moment that the silver head of the “gang” stepped out of his office at the end of the hall, the newest recruit, Mistoffelees. Originally from a rival gang Munkustrap had acquired him quite by accident though the details were hazy and Pouncival didn’t really know the full story.

       “What happened?” Munkustrap's low voice resonated through the corridor as he gently excused himself, he was a large tom and handsome too. It was easy to see why Demeter was so fond of him and easy to see why he was so fond of her. Jerrie lifted his head, apparently more than slightly sheepish. It was Teazer’s resounding laughter that caught Pouncival off guard.

       “He got proper smacked.” She responded, cutting across her brother without so much as a blink. Nodding at Pouncival. “Pouncey coulda done a better job than this dumb dolt.” Jerrie snorted, his pride apparently vaguely wounded by his sister’s dig at him. The monstrous grin on her face made Pouncival almost uncomfortable but it was the realisation that Mistoffelees had stopped just next to him that made Pouncival jump.

       “This is no laughin’ matter.” Jerrie interjected as his sister snickered to his left, “We got… Ah… Caught up in somethin’.”

       “What’s something?” Munkus’ tone had changed, Pouncival couldn’t be sure if it was concerned or anger. It was calm though, startlingly so.

       “Well ah… It looks like your brother’s back in town.” Jerrie responded, “Had a run in with his gang… Wasn’t too pretty, Munkus.”  
  
       “Oh yeah, forgot about that part.” His sister added, twisting the pearls around her neck idly, she hadn’t forgotten she’d just avoided mentioning it.  
  
The silence was tense, uncomfortable even and after a moment of discomfort Munkustrap finally sighed and spoke. “Someone get me Tugger.” It was not a question or a request, this was an order.  
  
“I’ll do it.” Pouncival spoke up before he thought, slipping past the older black and white tom. Perhaps this week was going to be more interesting than he’d first planned.


	2. Long Haul

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was fun to write! :) I hope everything is going well so far, please feel free to leave comments and criticisms!

Pouncival had not stopped to look back at Mistofelees but if he had he may have noticed that he was in fact barely older than him. Something about his white and black face, his tuxedo nature and apparently air of “seriousness” had somewhat altered Pouncival’s perception of him. The young maintenance man almost stumbled as he found his way back into the ballroom. It was bustling with energy and people and he almost knocked into Gus on his way to the bar. Pausing to apologise profusely he turned and found himself searching for Tugger. He wasn’t where he’d been sat when Pouncival had first entered from the opposite side of the room.   
  
       “You’re a fraud.” A smoky toned voice snapped, snapping his head around he noticed that Bombalurina was attached to the arm of an old black and white tom cat, Bustopher Jones prestigious and well bred. She was however speaking Tugger, who apparently seemed vaguely confused she was turning him down. Approaching quietly, he found himself catching brief snippets of conversation as he approached.   
  
       “I have a suggestion for you, go find another cat to call doll.” The dispute was not unusual, it was common to see Tugger involved in messy fights as Queens found themselves being stood up, cheated on or used simply as pawns. They loved him all the same. Pouncival supposed that it was because Tugger had a silver tongue and he was, as officially stated by the man himself, “A demon in the sheets.” Pouncival shivered, apparently disgusted at the notion. He reached the pair quickly, it was Bombalurina who noticed him approaching first.  
  
       “What do you need, sweetie?” She drawled at him as he got closer, silencing Tugger who looked at the young janitor with a raised eyebrow apparently unimpressed with him.   
  
       “I uh, need to speak with Tugger. Munkustrap wants you.” Pouncival coughed uncomfortably and watched as Tugger’s expression turned from mild annoyance to curiosity in a matter of moments. He grinned towards Bomba, feline and all teeth and eyebrows, began stalking past Pouncival who followed him. Looking briefly over his shoulder he noted that the red queen had gone back to enjoying (If you could call it that) the company of her fat, old, rich beau.   
  
       Tugger opened the doors to the hallway with great force, stepping in with all the pomp and circumstance that he could muster. If he had to make an entrance, it needed to be a good one. Mistofelees stepped back, apparently startled when the door flew open and Tugger stepped out. He gave a tut, contempt evident on his face as he stepped back. He brushed off his sleeves and the older tom marched out ahead of him. Leaving the black and white cat unnoticed.   
  
       “What’re you looking for Straps?” He questioned as Tugger turned to face his brother, slowly eyeing up the other two who were stood in the hall.   
  
       “He’s back.” The tall, grey tom responded, apparently unamused by his other brother who’s expression dropped as he realised the severity of the statement.   
  
       “You don’t mean…?”   
  
       “Yeah I do.”  
  
       “Where’d you get that information?” Tugger questioned and Munkustrap nodded back toward Teazer and Jerrie who were talking amongst themselves quietly.  Tugger snorted, “They couldn’t find their way out of a paper bag.”   
  
       “I will have you know,” Jerrie interjected, “That it was on the highest o’ authority that we acquired this information.”   
  
       “’Cause he got popped in the face.” His sister chimed in.   
  
       “No. ‘Cause one of his bastard associates told us so.”   
   
        “Right before punchin’ him in the teeth.”   
  
        “Teazer, shut up.” In response to her brother she stuck out her tongue, childish as ever. Pouncival stood watching from the door. He lifted his eyes to find the tuxedo cat was eyeing him silently.

  
-

  
Mistofelees made most people uncomfortable, he was aloof and could be rude and was hard to track down. He was silently sizing up the young tom next to him. He seemed out of place and unsure of himself. Unlike the others here, he seemed disconnected. He was fiddling with the button on his overalls when their eyes had met. The chatter down the hall was trivial as the two loud twins tried their very best to explain what had happened. Their hand gestures were wide and comical but the subject of their conversation was much more serious.   
  
       “Hello.”  The tom Misto had been eyeing silently spoke, “I’m Pouncival.” He stretched out a hand and Mistofelees shook it.   
  
       “Mistofelees.” He responded, dropped the others hand and shoving his own in his pockets. “Are they always like this?” He nodded down the hall towards the others, Munkustrap seemed exasperated and the one he guessed was Tugger, was currently, exacerbating the situation between the two (supposed) siblings. “Is it always like this around here?” He asked, his nose wrinkling slightly.   
  
       “Uhm… Sorta?” Pouncival seemed unsure. “Teazer and Jerrie are always in trouble, I guess, well not trouble but they’re kinda always crawling out of scrapes. ‘S not the first time Jerrie’s come in with an ice pack on his face. Tugger is kinda…”  
  
       “He seems kind of stuck up.”   
  
       “That is certainly one word for what Tugger is.” A knock resounded from the door the young man stepped away. Then walked through a pretty red queen, white and red and black on the arms. Mistofelees supposed she was attractive. Pouncival seemed to think so as he stuttered an uncomfortable hello in response to her.  
  
      “I came to see what was going on.” She whispered in a hushed tone, peering down the hallway. She lifted her bright, round eyes to Mistofelees and offered him a hand to shake. “Jemima.” She introduced before leaning towards Pouncival before the Tuxedo tom could introduce himself. “They in trouble again?”

       “When are they not?”   
  
        “Fair point. El and Etty said they were back. Looks like Mugojerrie got his face smacked.   
  
        “That’s the sixth time this week.”   
  
         “Nice.”   
      
         “Oh, ‘Mima, this is Mistofelees.” Pouncival introduced.   
  
         “I know. Dem hasn’t shut up about how proud Munkustrap is.”  
  
       Mistofelees gave a soft huffed sigh, her attention was focused on Pouncival for a few moments longer before her eyes turned back to the scene. When she spoke it took him a moment to realise her statement was directed at him. “This is just how it goes around here, hope you don’t mind but you could be in for the long haul.”

**Author's Note:**

> *I gave Pouncival his look from the 1998 film I suppose, I imagine Carbucketty as a separate and older character to Pouncival whom you'll meet later!*


End file.
